Yeh Dil ♥️ - Love Like This

4

The morning sunlight peeked through the blinds, painting stripes across Rohit's face. He stirred, the dull ache in his leg a constant reminder of yesterday's ordeal. Groaning, he pushed himself up, wincing at the sharp protest from his injured limb. Just then, a knock sounded on the door.

"Coming!" he croaked, shuffling towards the door with the awkward support of a chair. He squinted through the peephole, surprised to see Rudra standing outside.

He hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to expect.  Opening the door a crack, he found himself staring at Rudra's perfectly styled hair, slightly ruffled from sleep. He couldn't help but let out a small, startled laugh.

"Good morning, Sharma," Rudra said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.  "Didn't expect to see you up so early."

Rohit opened the door wider, his face warming under Rudra's gaze.  "Well, someone has to make breakfast," he mumbled, gesturing to the empty room.

Rudra chuckled, a sound surprisingly warm and genuine.  "Breakfast, huh?  I wouldn't trust you with a toaster in this condition."

Rohit bristled playfully.  "Hey, I can take care of myself!" he protested, though the wobble in his voice betrayed his bravado.

Before he could argue further, his body betrayed him.  He took a tentative step forward, but his leg buckled, and he started to fall.  A strong arm shot out and caught him, pulling him upright before he could hit the floor.

"Whoa there, careful," Rudra said, his voice laced with concern.  The closeness sent a jolt through Rohit, the familiar scent of Rudra's cologne filling his senses.

"Thanks," Rohit mumbled, his cheeks burning.  "I guess I'm not as good at playing patient as you think."

Rudra helped him settle back on the chair.  "Apparently not," he said, a teasing glint in his eyes.  "So, how about I handle breakfast while you focus on healing that leg?"

Rohit hesitated.  Having Rudra in his dorm, especially after yesterday's events, felt surreal.  But the thought of hobbling around trying to cook was even less appealing.  "Alright," he finally conceded, a hint of relief lacing his voice.  "But no coffee. I can't stand the stuff."

Rudra raised an eyebrow.  "No coffee?  What kind of college student are you?"

"The tea kind, obviously," Rohit retorted, a small smile playing on his lips.  He watched as Rudra rummaged through his cabinets, a strange sense of domesticity settling over the room. 

"No tea bags either," Rudra called out, his voice muffled by a half-opened cupboard.  "Looks like we're settling for chai then."

Rohit chuckled.  "Chai is good too. As long as you don't burn it."

Rudra poked his head out of the cupboard, a playful glint in his eyes.  "Don't worry, Sharma. Even a rich boy like me can handle boiling water."

Rohit let out a laugh, a genuine sound that filled the room.  As the rhythmic clinking of spoons and the hiss of steam filled the air, a comfortable silence settled between them.  Yesterday's fight, the unspoken questions, all seemed to fade away in this unexpected moment of shared space.

Suddenly, a loud knocking on the door shattered the peace.  Rohit and Rudra exchanged surprised glances.

"Coming!" Rohit called out, his voice slightly higher than usual.  As he shuffled to the door, a million scenarios played out in his mind. Who could be here?  A concerned friend? A college official?

He opened the door to reveal Anjali, his one and only friend at college, her face a mask of worry. 

"Rohit!" she exclaimed, her voice laced with concern.  "I just heard about what happened!  Are you okay?"

Before Rohit could answer, Anjali's eyes darted past him, landing on Rudra. Her jaw dropped in disbelief.

"Rudra?" she stammered, her voice barely a whisper.  "What are you doing here?"

Rudra, caught off guard by Anjali's sudden appearance, simply shrugged.  "Helping out a friend."

Rohit saw Anjali's eyes flicker back and forth between them, her mind clearly working overtime.  He could almost hear the fangirl screams forming in her brain.

"Oh, right," Anjali chirped, trying to regain her composure.  "Well, I just wanted to see how you were doing, Rohit.  Looks like you're in good hands."

Rohit shot Rudra a helpless look
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Anjali's arrival was like a burst of sunshine on a cloudy day.  Rudra, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, glanced at Rohit, a silent question in his eyes.  Rohit, catching his gaze, offered a small, grateful smile.

"Thanks, Rudra," he said softly.  "For everything."

Rudra simply nodded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.  He knew it was time to make his exit.  This sudden domesticity, the easy camaraderie with Rohit, felt strangely new and unsettling. 

"I should probably get going," he said, his voice gruff.  "Let me know if you need anything, Sharma."

Rohit felt a pang of disappointment at the thought of Rudra leaving.  But he understood.  Their situation was bizarre, to say the least.  "Yeah, okay," he stammered.  "Thanks again."

With a final nod, Rudra turned and left the dorm room, the echo of his footsteps fading down the hallway.  As the door shut behind him, a heavy silence descended upon the room.

Anjali, who had been observing the entire exchange with wide-eyed wonder, finally burst out.  "Oh my god, Rohit!  Rudra Singh in your dorm, making you breakfast?  What is going on?"

Rohit groaned, burying his face in a hand.  He knew Anjali, his best friend and resident college gossip.  Her mind, fueled by years of romantic fiction, was already running wild with fantastical scenarios.

"It's not what you think, Anjali," he mumbled, dreading the inevitable questions.  He explained the events of yesterday, from the fight with Sidharth to Rudra's unexpected intervention.  He left out the part about the strange protectiveness he felt emanating from Rudra, the way his heart had skipped a beat when their eyes met.

Anjali listened intently, her eyes widening with each detail.  When Rohit finished, she leaned forward, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Okay, but seriously," she began, her voice barely a whisper.  "There's something more going on here, right?  Rudra never helps anyone!"

Rohit rolled his eyes.  "Anjali, stop it.  He just felt bad, that's all."

But even as he said the words, a traitorous part of him couldn't help but indulge in a moment of fantasy.  The image of Rudra, his hair slightly ruffled, a smile playing on his lips, flashed in his mind.  He quickly dismissed the thought.  The idea of anything romantic happening between him and Rudra, the college's resident bad boy, was simply impossible.

Anjali, however, wasn't convinced.  She wagged her finger at him, a knowing smile plastered on her face.  "Uh-huh," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.  "Just wait, Rohit.  This is the beginning of a beautiful love story!"

Rohit swatted her arm playfully, a blush creeping up his neck.  "There's no story, Anjali.  Just a bruised leg and a...confusing situation."

Despite his protests, a tiny spark of hope flickered within him.  Maybe, just maybe, Anjali's wild imagination wasn't so far off the mark.  But for now, he pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the throbbing pain in his leg and the delicious aroma of chai that filled the room, a lingering reminder of Rudra's unexpected kindness.